


We Just Might Feel Good

by whisperofgrace



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, celebrities AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 00:25:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3229259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whisperofgrace/pseuds/whisperofgrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old friends, Emma and Killian, walk a fine line in their relationship while balancing their high profile careers. Having not seen each other in months, they find themselves in their hometown of Boston, reunited for only one night. Modern AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Emma smiled as she looked over the menu in front of her, pretending to consider what to order. She'd eaten at the hotel restaurant often enough to know what was good, and most of her attention was on the man sitting across from her. Tall, light brown hair, with the right amount of scruff and an accent that could just wash over her, she'd been interested ever since she'd ran into Graham in the hallway upstairs - quite literally - and hadn't had to hint too hard before he'd asked her to dinner.

He'd known who she was, but it hadn't thrown him like it did most people. He'd told her that he'd seen one or two of her films, liked her performance but hadn't heard of much of her other work, which was the comment that she got from most people. But instead of wanting to know about the other actors that she'd worked with, or what her favourite kind of ice cream was, he was more curious about the type of life that hopefully-budding stardom was bringing her, and didn't push her if the topics became too personal.

When she'd first met him earlier that afternoon, all she'd wanted from him was a little wining and dining before taking him to bed to occupy her for the night, but she found herself actually enjoying herself a lot more than she'd expected to.

'What's Vancouver like?' he asked as she took a sip of wine.

'Hmm,' she said, lowering her glass. 'Cold. When I was there, anyway. You have to tell me about that accent, though. I'd know Irish anywhere.'

'Northern Ireland, actually,' he told her, smiling at her before his eyes dipped to the menu again. 'I moved here a few years ago.'

'For work?' she asked lightly, pushing aside thoughts of another Irishman that she knew. He wasn't there, and she was really starting to like this one.

(A part of her couldn't wait to tell Killian about him, later. Would he be jealous?)

( _It's not about jealousy. Stop it.)_

'Just fancied a sea change,' he said, keeping his tone casual to match hers. It was clear that there was a story there, but if he wasn't going to offer the information then she wasn't going to push him. 'What were you thinking for -'

'Emma Swan.'

Emma's body was turning before she could stop herself, one hand gripping the back of her chair tightly as she looked around for the owner of that smug, arrogant voice. When her eyes landed on him, standing a few feet behind her, her mouth slipped into a large grin before she could restrain it into something slightly more neutral. 'Killian? What are you doing here?'

He looked at her, just looked at her for a few seconds, and she could feel the same thrill humming through her as she knew he was feeling. After a moment he stepped up to the table, his fingers tapping lightly on the surface, his body angled enough toward Emma that it excluded Graham. 'Jeff's sick,' he told her. 'We had to cancel a few shows, so I came home for a couple of days.'

Her eyes flickered to Graham, who leaned forward slightly to grab Killian's attention. 'You're the guy in that band, aren't you?'

Leaning back in her chair, Emma watched in amusement as Killian's grin faded into a barely upturning of his lips. They were always open about their conquests on the road - to the point of bragging and competition, sometimes - but this was the first time that one of them had met the other. Raising his eyebrow at her, he turned to face Graham, who was looking on with faint confusion. 'Killian Jones,' he said, holding out his hand, which the other man shook. 'Guitarist.'

'Graham Humbert,' Graham said, and didn't offer anything else.

Killian must have realized that he was interrupting their night -  _like he hadn't known before he'd come over_. 'I'll leave you to order,' he said, and she didn't miss the tightening around his eyes when they turned back to her. 'I'm here until Saturday.'

'I'm leaving tomorrow morning,' she said, grimacing.

They watched each other for a few seconds, Emma's mind racing as she saw the realization in Killian's eyes before his guard went back up. 'All right,' he said eventually. 'Next time, perhaps -'

'No.' Her mouth snapped shut after the words slipped out automatically. She looked from deep blue eyes to warm green ones and back again. She actually liked Graham, had enjoyed the start of her night with him, but she couldn't give up this chance to see Killian, not when it had been months since they'd last been even in the same state. Turning back to Graham, she frowned at him apologetically, hoping that he could see how sincere she was. 'I'm so sorry.'

Leaning back in his chair, he smiled faintly, his disappointment plain. 'Don't be,' he said, waving his hand across the table. 'We hadn't even ordered yet. No loss but the company.'

His easy acceptance only made her feel worse. 'Let me pay for my drinks,' she said, reaching for her purse, but he held out his hand to stop her.

'It's fine, I've got it,' he said, smiling at her warmly. 'Maybe another time, if you're back in town?'

She ignored the impatient sound that Killian made from beside her, trying not to roll her eyes because surely she could have a minute or so since he was interrupting her night? 'Absolutely,' she told Graham, meaning it where she normally wouldn't. 'Do you mind if I call you, though? I don't like to give my number out.'

'Of course.' Pulling his wallet out of his jacket, he scribbled down some numbers of the pen that she supplied, his fingers brushing hers when he handed both to her. 'Enjoy the rest of your night, Emma,' he said, his smile slipping slightly when he turned his head to nod to Killian. 'Mr Jones.'

'Humbert,' Killian said, and she sighed at the sudden overly friendly tone of his voice.

Smiling at Graham one last time, she grabbed her coat and her purse, stuffing the card inside before following Killian out of the dining area. 'I have a room here,' she told him. 'Did you want to get a drink?'

'I have drinks at my place,' he told her, his hand coming to rest lightly on her lower back, guiding her toward the exit and she couldn't deny the way a coil tightened in her stomach. The night was cold, but his touch was warm through the material of her dress, and she didn't bother to put her coat on, knowing that he'd have the heat on in his car anyway. Once the valet had brought it around and tossed him the keys, she climbed into the passenger seat.

Neither of them spoke as he pulled out onto the street and turned toward the area of the city where his apartment was. After a few minutes of silence she reached for the radio, flicking through stations until she found a song that she liked.

'What brings you home?' he asked eventually.  _Why didn't you tell me you were here?_  was what she heard.

'Mary Margaret and David had a baby, did you hear about that?' she asked. He nodded, keeping his eyes straight ahead but his smile was genuine. 'I came to visit for a few days, before I start my next job. They hired a sitter to look after the baby so they can have a night out, so I booked a room at the hotel.'

'They kicked you out?' Killian asked, sounding amused.

'I offered,' she said dryly. 'I didn't mention it because you're supposed to be on tour,' she reminded him, 'so I didn't think we'd see each other. Plus, you haven't returned my last email from over a week ago.'

Huffing a laugh, he shrugged lightly. 'I've been busy.'

'Busy not being on tour?'

'Exactly,' he said unapologetically, and she sighed dramatically. 'And we did play up until last night, but now Jefferson's got some throat infection or something.'

They fell into silence again, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It wasn't relaxing either, though; she could feel the tension in the air between them. She chewed at her bottom lip as they drove, impatient to reach their destination.

He pulled into the small parking lot of his apartment building, and had the key out of the ignition as soon as he'd pulled to a stop, out of the door before she could unbuckle her belt. She pulled the handle on the door but it opened before she could push on it, Killian standing on the other side with his hand extended. 'What are you doing?' she asked, grinning despite herself.

'Being a gentleman,' he said, as though it were obvious. 'Come on, Swan, when are you going to catch up?'

Shaking her head, she put her hand in his and let her pull him up, but when he tugged on her harder than she'd been expecting she stumbled forward into him. The way that his other hand rested on her hip to steady her told her that the move had been intentional, but she found herself unable to care, too caught up in the lack of space between their bodies, their faces inches apart.

Her hands landed on his chest, her breath hitching and she could smell the faint remains of his cologne. She closed her eyes just before he leaned forward, closing the space between them and pressing his lips against hers.

Humming with the relief of  _finally,_  she let him push her back against the car, one hand fisting in his shirt while the other wrapped around the back of his neck and pulled him closer. His free hand came up to cup her head, his fingers tangling in her hair. When he ground his hips against hers she moaned, and he used the opportunity to slip his tongue past her lips, tangling it with hers and it was too much, not enough, it was perfect and holy shit, she'd missed him.

She kissed him desperately, craving this closeness, this familiarity that she never got with anyone else, wanting to wrap herself up in him, not quite believing that they'd found each other tonight but not willing to wait any longer now that they had the chance. 'Inside,' she gasped, breaking the kiss only long enough to get the word out but then she could barely concentrate even on that because his thigh had found itself between hers and every time he rocked his hips against hers she felt him right where she was suddenly desperate for him, her arm sliding around his back to hold him to her tightly before she pushed him away. 'Inside, Killian.'

He groaned as he reluctantly stepped away from her, his hand closing around hers tightly and pulling her toward the entrance to his apartment building, all but dragging her up the stairs and when she laughed at him for it he answered with the boyish grin that had always made her heart warm. When they reached his door he pressed her against it face first, grinding up against her ass as he fumbled for the right key, feeling his erection through their clothes. 'Bloody hell,' he muttered as he almost dropped them, then groaned loudly when she turned her head to press open mouthed kisses against his neck. 'Fuck.'

'Hurry up,' she murmured, angling her hips and he swore again, closing his mouth over hers just as the door pushed open and then they were stumbling into the apartment, almost falling over each other until he slipped around her, all but slamming the door shut before she was pressed against it again. Her back was against it this time, Killian's body hard against her. Dropping her purse and coat, she pushed his jacket off of his shoulders and as soon as his arms were free, his hands were on her, one groping at her breast while the other slipped straight down between her legs. Tugging her dress up, he pushed aside her underwear, his fingers slipping between her folds and they both groaned loudly at the contact, the sensation shooting out through to her toes. 'Fucking hell, Emma. You're always so wet for me. I need to taste you.'

His thumb circled her clit while two fingers played at her entrance, teasing her when she was already aroused enough. He kissed his way down her neck, nipping at the top of her breast before falling to his knees in front of her, slipping his fingers inside of her as he did so and her head fell back against the door with a dull thud. 'Please,' she sighed, shivering as his breath washed over her, his mouth just inches from where she wanted him.

While his fingers started to pump slowly in and out of her, his other hand slide slowly up the outside of her leg, looking up at her and she could see her own anticipation mirrored in his hooded eyes. His hand reached her knee and curled around it, lifting her leg over his shoulder and then he leaned forward, closing his mouth over her clit.

Closing her eyes, she tightened her leg around him, threading her fingers through his hair and urging him closer. His fingers picked up their pace, his lips and tongue working over her thoroughly, his fingers digging into her ass. The feeling of it all was incredible - she didn't get this attention from other men, almost never, and he had her a trembling mess within minutes, always knowing exactly the right spots to hit to have her coming hard and fast. When his fingers curled inside of her, rubbing against her most sensitive spot, her legs started to tremble and she had to balance most of her weight against the door and on him, vaguely regretting not kicking off her heels. Her body tensed, her teeth digging into her lower lip to suppress her groan as the heat became unbearable and then pulsed out through her body, clenching her fist in his hair when he removed his fingers but not his mouth, his tongue laving over her as she continued to ride out her orgasm.

Eventually he pulled away, letting go of her leg and grabbing her hands instead, pulling her down on top of him as he lay back. 'Bedroom?' she said, climbing over him and fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, her need for him barely diminished.

'No, here,' he said, leaning up just enough to kiss her hungrily and she moaned at the taste of herself on his lips. Needing no further encouragement, she reached lower between them, shuffling back so that she straddled his thighs, making quick work of his belt, jerking down his pants. Moving forward again, she lifted herself over him, their mouths still moving together as she pulled him free of his underwear, only pausing to groan together in relief when she sunk down onto him.

'Oh, yes,' he growled, shifting to fill her deeper, both of his hands grasping her hips and helping her to rock against him. Pressing her face against his neck, she gave herself a few seconds to find her rhythm before she leaned back, sitting up straight astride him, ripping at the last of his buttons so that her hands could splay over his chest, to feel him as much as for leverage. She set a fast pace, encouraged by his moans and the way he gasped her name, loving the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing furiously as he threw his head back and swallowed hard. 'Like that, that's perfect, fuck...'

The familiar drag of him inside of her already sensitive core had her worked up again quickly, and when one of his hands settled in the crease of her thigh, his thumb reaching between them to rub frantically at her clit, she couldn't help the long moan that fell from her lips. 'That's it,' he said, his accent thicker now. 'Bloody hell, but you're beautiful. I want to watch you fall apart, aye, just like that.' He shifted under her, bending his legs and using the new angle to move against her faster, thrusting up into her every time she ground down on him and then she felt it, her insides clenching around him as her second orgasm hit her, her back arching and throwing her head back, crying out loudly as her hips jerked against his. He kept moving for a few more seconds before his own body stiffened, moaning her name, and she felt him pulsing inside of her, the sensation drawing another strained noise from her.

Her head lolled forward lazily and then he was pulling her down to lie on top of him, the hair on his chest scratching at her sensitive nipples, his arms coming around her as they both caught their breath. Her limbs felt tired, but a warm, satisfied feeling had spread throughout her body, and nothing was going to make her move from that spot for at least the next few minutes.

'Hi,' he said eventually, pressing his lips against her hair.

Laughing softly, she pressed her face harder against his shoulder. 'Hi,' she said back, closing her eyes to better enjoy the feeling of his fingers trailing their way up her back.

She had no immediate plans to move - they might be lying on the ground, but since she was lying on top of him and he was comfortable and warm, it was hardly her problem - until her stomach growled loudly and he chuckled.

'Chinese?'

'Sounds great.'


	2. Chapter 2

An hour later, Emma sat on Killian's couch wearing nothing but her underwear and one of his shirts, him only in his boxers. He was sprawled out, his legs casually across her lap. 'Eating would be easier if you sat up,' she told him, pointing her fork at him before digging back into the takeout box that rested on his shins, swirling noddles around her fork.

'Probably,' he said, craning his head forward to get his own forkful to his mouth without spilling it all over himself. 'But I'm comfy.' He wiggled his legs against her, nearly spilling her food all over the both of them.

'Watch it,' she grumbled, stuffing more food in her mouth to hide her smile.

She couldn't deny that it was nice, just being with him. She tried not to think about it when they were apart, but the content, happy feeling that was swelling inside of her told her plainly that she'd missed him more than usual this time. Things felt easier when they were together. She didn't feel so alone.

Killian was the only person aside from Mary Margaret and David that she still knew from her teenage years. She was never popular - and liked it that way - until she'd scored her first role, a short film for a local company, and when her performance had received positive reviews suddenly everyone had wanted to know her better. And so she'd quite happily stuck to the few friends that had always been by her side, letting in a few extras only as they proved their loyalty (Killian's band mates among them).

She'd always been closest with Killian. He'd moved from Ireland with only his elder brother and guardian, Liam, hoping for a chance at a new life. After going from home to home in the foster system, she'd understood what it was like to not feel stable.

They'd stopped denying the attraction that they felt for each other just before high school ended, and it had felt so easy to be together. Killian had encouraged her to audition for jobs while she supported him as his band wrote and recorded their first album, the two of them nervous but excited about where their futures could take them, both in their careers and with each other. But then he'd left on the band's first tour, and things had been... harder.

They'd been able to cope with the distance. They'd found time to call and text and Skype, and hearing his voice had eased the space between them. But the media caught on quickly to the rising new band, attractive young men each of them, and Killian found himself with as much attention as any of the others. Determined to keep their personal life separate from their careers, they'd agreed to insist that he was single, which she'd been fine with until she'd started seeing pictures of him with other women, from all parts of the country.

He'd insisted that he hadn't been with any of them, but in a heated argument had slipped out that it was bloody hard to resist when he hadn't seen her for three months and didn't know how to deal with missing her. She'd started to fight back, to tell him that sleeping with another woman shouldn't make up for not being with her, until she'd realized that maybe there was a reason why she'd thrown herself so fully into the kissing scene that had taken three hours to film that day.

It had been for work, but so was his image. And his current one - bad boy flirt - was helping to sell their tickets. Neither of them wanted to back down, but neither of them were happy with the way things were.

They'd called it quits, and not spoken to each other for months. She'd thrown herself into work, ignoring the magazines, ignoring the news. She hadn't been aware that he was back in town until he turned up at the same party where she was, and he'd seemed just as eager to avoid her as she did him.

Until, of course, they found themselves alone in the bathroom and unable to keep their hands off of each other.

They hadn't worked together, yet they couldn't stay away. The familiarity that they found in each other couldn't be replicated in another's arms, and they'd both confessed to trying, again and again. They'd talked about trying again, but they both knew that the distance was too much and the nights on the road (and at home) too lonely. It was only going to get worse, with his band looking to tour overseas and her career picking up. So they'd parted on good terms, this time as friends.

It hadn't stayed that simple for long. Every time they found each other they fell together, as desperate for each other as they had been the first time. It had taken them a year and three visits to accept that they preferred life with each other in it, in whichever way they could.

It wasn't a relationship. Certainly not to the public, and not even to them. But for the past five years they'd taken what they needed and what they could from each other whenever they had the chance. They were open about the other people that they slept with, to keep themselves aware of their situation more than anything else, but she couldn't remember when it had turned into a bragging game.

She would have enjoyed telling him about Graham, with the lovely accent.

Killian's legs shifted again, recapturing her attention, and she lifted her takeout carton so he could sit up properly. She frowned as he leant forward to set his half empty box on the coffee table. 'Are you sick, too?' she asked, pointing to his food and referring to the fact that he'd hardly eaten anything, but he just laughed.

'Love, I was leaving my own dinner when I found you tonight. This is meal number two.'

'Of course it is,' she muttered, shaking her head at him. He shrugged unapologetically before pushing himself up off of the couch and heading toward the kitchen.

Putting down the last of her own meal, Emma took a deep breath and looked around the lounge room of the apartment, feeling herself relax to the faint hum of the television, the sounds of him moving around the kitchen. It had felt cold and unlived in when they'd first arrived, but with the lights on and the smell of food in the air (and their clothes on the floor), it was starting to feel a lot more like home. She'd moved around quite a lot over the years, but he'd always kept the same small apartment and it felt more like home to her than any place she'd had, including her current apartment in New York.

Killian returned after a few minutes with a beer in hand that she accepted gratefully, taking the advantage when he sat down to pop her feet in his lap much like he'd done to her. She'd been expecting a joking protest of some kind, but didn't mind when he just smoothed his hand over her ankle and up her bare calf instead. It felt good to be intimate with someone aside from sex, and from the small smile on his face, she thought he felt the same way. 'How's the tour going?' she asked after taking a long drink.

She didn't resist the urge to kick him when he "accidentally" rested his beer against her leg - it was cold, the bastard - and he grinned at her as he moved it away so as not to spill it. He wrapped his free arm around her ankles to still them, and although she eyed him warily, he kept his beer an acceptable distance away from her skin. 'Pretty good, actually,' he said, as though he weren't acting like a child at the same time - which wasn't unusual for him, not at  _all_. 'Regina's been pretty pleased. Except for Jeff getting sick, that is,' he added. 'She hates cancelling shows, and I agree with her. We only had half a dozen left, but now we'll have to go back once we finish the others.'

'You could have sung,' she pointed out, nudging him with her heel. 'I'm sure you could have handled it.' Jefferson had a great voice, but so did Killian, and Emma told him frequently that he should be doing more than backup vocals.

He smirked at her, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. 'I could have handled it,' he agreed. 'But when people pay for Jeff and they get me -'

'They don't just pay for Jeff,' she interrupted him, her brows shooting up. 'Are you serious? You get just as much attention as him, more even.'  _And since when would he have had a problem with it if he hadn't?_

He shrugged lightly, his face a careful mask of indifference that she saw straight through. 'Yeah, maybe. Not for the music, though.' She made a small sound of protest but he was moving out from underneath her feet before she could speak and she bit her tongue, reluctantly accepting that he didn't want to continue the conversation. 'It's gotten freezing in here,' he said, walking across the room to retrieve the control for the heater, fiddling with the buttons until the familiar sound of the unit came on.

Letting the subject drop for now, Emma straightened up on the couch, watching him from across the room. 'You know that clothes would make it less cold,' she pointed out, nodding toward his current state of undress.

He grinned up at her, dropping the control on the small dining table on the other side of the room and looking her up and down - she knew that she was hardly better, in just her underwear and his shirt. 'I'm inclined to keep us in as few clothes as possible tonight,' he said with a raise of his eyebrow, and she resisted not only the urge to roll her eyes (because she felt the same) but also to check the time (because she didn't want to know how quickly the minutes were slipping by).

Her eyes dropped to the table where he'd put down the control, landing on the large folder underneath, half hidden by the shoulder bag that he usually travelled with. Pushing herself off of the couch, she walked across and moved the bag, opening the folder. 'Have you had a chance to do a lot of drawing?'

'Hmm. Not as much as I'd like.' As he spoke, Killian tugged at her hair gently, his hand brushing over her shoulder before he stepped away in the direction of the couch. Emma focused on the folder and its contents, a smile tugging at her lips automatically in response to the grinning child on the first page. He'd always had a talent and a love for art, and she knew few people who could create such a lifelike image just with a pencil, his tool of choice when he travelled. She could see the joy in the little boy's eyes, and somehow felt like she was a part of it. 'Downtime has been scarce lately.'

Sparing a glance over her shoulder to find Killian reclined on the couch again, his eyes closed and a content half smile on his face, Emma turned back to the picture, her fingertips not quite brushing at his cheek.

Flipping the page over carefully, she found an unfinished (abandoned?) sketch of a courtyard in one of the cities that he must have visited when he'd had a few hours to spare. There were children playing with a ball by a small fountain, two men in suits on a nearby bench, an elderly man and woman bent over a small table, but none of their faces were finished, each of them only a faint outline, a vague hint of eyes, nose, mouth. The background was in similar detail; aside from the fountain, there was only feathered strokes to indicate spacing and depth.

Anyone else might have assumed it was a half hearted effort, but she knew it to be an eagerness to capture everything, anything he could in the moments that he had spare. She understood that well, the need for more time, for more peace.

She looked through the next few pages, unable to stop herself from being drawn into the pictures. There were a few locations but the people in them were always more prominent, almost always with big, laughing smiles that she felt in her soul and she knew, this was his happiness, his passion just as much as the music was.

'So is what's-his-face your type, then?'

Emma didn't react straight away, reluctant to pull herself from her thoughts. 'Hmm?'

There was a pause, a shuffle of movement. 'Graham Humbert, smiley face. What kind of grown man writes his name with a smiley face?'

Glancing back at him again, she wad unsurprised to see him poking around in her clutch, scrap of paper in hand that she assumed was where Graham had written his number. And, presumably, a smiley face. 'I don't care what he writes with his name. The fact that he could hold a conversation was as impressive as his pretty face. And I don't have a type,' she said honestly before turning back to his folder, flipping over the last piece of paper to see a sealed hidden pocket at the back. 'Ooh, is this where you keep your naked women? I was wondering when I'd come across those.'

'Ha ha,' he said sarcastically, making her jump slightly when she realized that he was standing right behind her. She turned her head to look up at him but he bent down on her other side, his mouth closing over the exposed skin of her neck and she sucked in her breath, the surprise making her heart jump all the more and heat rushed immediately through her body and between her legs. Licking a stripe up her neck, Killian nipped lightly at the skin just underneath her ear. Her head fell back against shoulder, a low hum of satisfaction leaving her as her hand came up of its own accord, her fingers twisting in his hair and holding him against her. 'Are you going to call him?' he breathed against her ear.

'Killian,' she sighed, barely a protest and then it was nullified anyway as his hand gripped her chin, turning her head towards him and closing his mouth over hers. Her eyes slid closed and her lips parted automatically, putty in his hands, and she barely noticed when he closed the folder and pushed it aside. His hand left her face to cup her head and then he was pulling her up, kicking the chair out of the way and pressing her against the table, the wooden edge cool against the backs of her thighs. She lifted herself up onto the table, but her hands moved to his chest, breaking the kiss and stopping him from following her. 'It's just you and me here, right?'

His brows were drawn together, a darkness in his eyes that wasn't just lust but she couldn't quite place what part of it felt unfamiliar. His hands dropped to her knees, and she resisted the urge for her eyelids to flutter closed as they slid slowly up the outsides of her thighs. 'Just me and you,' he agreed, the darkness turning into pure heat as he watched her, and she felt the thick desire in his voice in her bones. 'Just you, here, in my apartment. In my shirt,' he said, lifting one hand to nimbly undo the few buttons holding the shirt closed, his hand immediately cupping her breast as soon as it fell open. The other tugged at the hem of her underwear and her hands fell to the table, lifting herself up so that he could pull them off, parting her legs so that he could step between them, grabbing onto his shoulders to pull him down so that she could kiss him.

As soon as his mouth was on hers she felt it again, the desperate urgency that she hadn't been able to deny when they'd first made it to his apartment. Her other hand was on his waist, tugging him closer until he was flush up against her, his erection rubbing at her through his boxers but it wasn't enough, not even with the low groan that fell from his lips at the contact. 'Leave the shirt on,' he said hoarsely before sinking his teeth into the skin at the base of her neck, and her hands were tugging at his underwear, needing them off, now. 'I like you in my clothes.'

She shouldn't like him being possessive, she shouldn't enjoy it but fuck it, she did, she couldn't deny the thrill that went through her as he marked her, one arm coming around her to hold them as close together as possible while the other gripped at her thigh, guiding her legs around his waist as her hand closed around his cock. Just like earlier (like always), she was wet and ready for him and he slid in easily, filling her with a few long, deep thrusts that had her short of breath and clinging to him. After a moment he set a quicker pace, pumping in and out of her fast and hard and rough. It felt good, it felt perfect, but he wasn't kissing her and his eyes were anywhere but on hers, and she wasn't so far gone as to not notice. Despite his earlier words, it didn't feel like it was just  _them_  in the room, and she didn't like his current mood. 'You can wear my shoes if you like,' she offered, her voice barely more than a gasp.

Killian paused, but it had the desired effect, a quiet snort of laughter and then his mouth was on hers again, kissing her with the warmth and affection that she was used to, deep and steady and altering his thrusts to match it.  _This_  was better,  _this_  was them, and she wrapped herself in the feeling.

He tugged at her leg and she lay back on the table, shifting slightly so that he could bring her leg up over his shoulder and she moaned at the sensations the new angle gave when he started to move, one hand wrapped around her leg while the other rested on her hip, holding her down on the table. 'Fuck,' she muttered, moving with him as best as she could, reaching up to roll her nipple between her thumb and her forefinger.

'Yes, yes,' he groaned, starting to move faster and she knew he was close already but that didn't matter because she was too. 'Touch yourself Emma, like I love.' Before she could think about it her other hand was between her legs just above where they joined, rubbing against her clit roughly and her head fell back, less concerned about watching them, her whole focus on the steady drag of him inside her.  _Almost, almost..._  He cursed loudly, biting down on her leg and then she was crashing over the edge, her body stiffening as she came, warmth spreading all through her. He followed just moments later, dropping her leg from his shoulder and leaning over her, his face scrunched up deliciously and his name falling from her lips.

Always so, so good. But -

'One more,' he said gruffly as he pulled out of her, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses to her chest, her nipple, her stomach before his hand disappeared between them, two fingers sliding into her easily without preamble and she gasped, her body still oversensitive. He didn't seem to notice or care, shifting his weight onto his other arm to hold himself above her, still resting between her legs as he fucked her with his fingers, drawing a gasp from her with every stroke.

She moaned his name but he only grunted, closing his mouth over her nipple again and she arched into him. He stopped pumping his fingers in and out of her and rubbed his fingers against the inside of her walls, pressing hard against just that right spot. 'Oh,  _fuck.'_  She didn't know if it was because she hadn't fully recovered from her last orgasm but she was already nearing her peak again, her body trembling underneath his and then she was right  _there,_ falling over the edge for the second time in minutes.

She was still catching her breath when he pulled his fingers from her, moving his hands to her sides to help her sit up, and she could feel the wetness that was a mixture of them both against her skin - she was on the pill; he was the only person that she didn't wear a condom with and she knew the same to be true for him. Letting him pull her upright, she rested her head against his bare chest as he wrapped his arms around her. 'Greedy tonight?' she asked, pressing a chaste kiss on his collarbone.

'The night's not over, love,' he said, and when she looked up at him his half smile turned into a cheeky grin. 'And there's still the morning.'

He was right, but she could still feel the minutes slipping through her fingers.  _How many hours until her flight?_  She didn't want to look.

'You're lucky I put up with you,' she warned him, smiling at him to hide her thoughts and soften her words as she gently pushed him away from her. Lowering herself onto the ground, she searched the floor for her underwear. Turning back to him, she had to smother a laugh at the sight of him standing next to the table with his boxers around his ankles and a satisfied smirk on his face. 'I'm going to get cleaned up, and you better have a cold beer for me when I get back.'

When she returned from the bathroom he not only had a beer for her, but had managed to find some jeans as well, though he was still missing his shirt (which she'd never complain about). An old movie was just starting on the TV and when she sat next to him on the couch, he lifted his arm and she settled against him automatically, always amazed at how easily they fit together considering they spent most of their time in different states or different countries and with different people.

(She dozed off during the movie. He carried her to bed, but by the time they reached it she was wide awake, and they didn't get to sleep for another hour.)


	3. Chapter 3

Pressing her face into the pillow, Emma tried to resist waking up, knowing without opening her eyes that it was still far too early for her to be awake. A smile tugged at her lips anyway when she recognized the scent that clung to the pillow and the weight of the arm lying loosely over her waist.

This was one of the things that she missed most; having someone to hold her, a warm body to wake up next to. Her usual one night stands satisfied the itch and pushed back the loneliness, but the nights were far and few between when she'd let them stay over. And the few that did still lacked this familiarity. She knew that if she were to shift closer to Killian, his arm would tighten around her, even in his sleep. She knew how much she'd have to move or how much noise she'd have to make to wake him up.

She also knew that he'd be cold in bed alone, so when she slipped out from under his arm, she made sure to pull the quilt up over his shoulders. He shifted in his sleep, his brow furrowing when his arm moved and she wasn't there. She stepped back quickly, not wanting to disturb him, grabbing a shirt from the floor as she tiptoed out of the bedroom.

Closing the door quietly behind her, she slipped the shirt over her head - a dark coloured v-neck that fell to the tops of her thighs and smelt clean, at least. She felt her way through the dark apartment, only flicking on a light when she reached the kitchen. Taking a clean glass from the cupboard, she glanced at the clock on the microwave as she filled it with water from the tap, and was unsurprised to find the numbers flashing repeatedly at 00:00. She wondered how long it had been since Killian had been here for more than a few days at a time.

Despite the heater being on earlier, the apartment was chilly again now and as goosebumps broke out over her legs, she regretted the decision not to borrow some of his sweatpants as well. Crossing the room, she put her glass on the coffee table and picked up her phone when she saw it's notification light flashing. She sat down on the couch, tucking her legs underneath her, reluctantly letting go of the idea of going straight back to sleep for the next few minutes.

Unlocking her phone, Emma glanced over the new email from Belle, her manager, double checking the time of the meeting that they had set up for the following afternoon in New York, and she sighed at the idea that she had to be on at the airport by midday the next day. As much as she'd been enjoying coming back to her roots and visiting Mary Margaret and David, she'd been looking forward to going back to New York, meeting up with Belle, learning more about the next job that she had lined up for her. But now that leaving Boston also meant leaving Killian, it seemed a little bit harder.

Tapping out a quick reply to Belle confirming the time, she pressed send and then paused when she saw the (1) next to her drafts folder. Opening the half written email to Killian that she'd started a few days ago, she skimmed through what she'd written so far, mentally crossing off most of the things in there now that she'd been able to talk to him in person.

When they'd first started this long distance friends with benefits thing, they'd decided to be completely open with each other about the other people who they slept with in the hope to keep things like jealousy and distrust out of their friendship, and since then they'd developed a habit of ending their emails with an update on their latest sexual exploits. She didn't have to look at the email that she was replying to in order to remember his latest , a woman that he'd met in a club in Miami when he was out with Jeff - before he got sick, apparently.

She thought back to Killian's comment earlier, about whether Graham was her type. Did he have a type? Was Julia blonde like her? A brunette, or a redhead maybe? How about Jeanette? Or the woman before her, her name fluttering out of reach for a few seconds before her mind settled on Eleanor. She wondered if any of them looked like her.

Those types of thoughts were the ones that she tried to stay away from, and so she closed the email, tucking her phone between her hands and her hands between her thighs. It didn't matter what they looked like, or whether they were funny or smart or dull. It felt strange enough that he'd met Graham, even though he hadn't made it far enough to rate a mention in an email anyway. There was no comparison - the fact that she'd left with Killian even though she'd started the night with Graham made that obvious - but she wondered if Killian had taken measure of her choice for the night, whether against her or himself.

Draining the rest of the water in the glass, she stood and started to head back to the bedroom, wanting to make the most of Killian's warmth while she could and reluctantly taking her phone with her for its use as an alarm. She paused, however, when she walked past the dining table. Killian's sketchbook sat on the other end, closed but with a few loose pages poking out from when they'd hurriedly pushed it aside earlier.

He hadn't wanted her to see whatever was in that sealed pocket at the back, which of course made her itch to find out what was in there. Although she'd been joking when she'd suggested that they were naked portraits or whatever, now that she thought about it, she couldn't figure out anything else that he might want to hide from her, however jokingly he'd tried to hide it, and it was becoming harder to deny her curiosity. Not comparative, of course not, and not jealousy. Just curiosity.

Besides, he wouldn't know if she had a peek, would he?

Placing her phone and empty glass on the table, Emma pulled the sketchbook closer and sat down, carefully opening it straight to the back. The pocket was held closed by two Velcro tabs that, when she pulled open, came apart with an ease that indicated they were either old or well used. She paused for a second longer, considering just going back to bed, but if he hadn't wanted her to look then he shouldn't have left it out in plain sight to taunt her, right? Reaching into the pocket, her fingers closed around a thin stack of paper and she pulled them out, setting them down on the table.

Her own face stared back at her.

Her brow furrowed in confusion as she stared at the drawing on the first piece of paper. It was unmistakably her, down to the defiant tilt of her lips and the dimple in her chin, but it was a version of herself that she'd never seen before. Even just with pencil and paper, there was something about her eyes that spoke of warmth, a gracefulness to her features that surely wasn't accurate, and she marvelled briefly at his talent before it occurred to her to wonder why he wouldn't want her to see this.

She moved the piece of paper to the side, and was stuck again by her own image. This time she was laughing, her eyes crinkled and her hand pressed to her chest. The detail in the picture was incredible, something that she always struggled to believe could come from the man that she knew. A heavy feeling settled in her stomach as she looked at page after page, confronted with her likeness each time. Unlike the other drawings that she'd seen earlier, none of these were unfinished.

This was why he'd been secretive about them, she realized. She'd badgered him light heartedly to draw her countless times and he'd always refused, claiming either that he wouldn't be able to do her justice or that he'd rather spend his time being with her than making her pose for him. But clearly that wasn't necessary, because although she recognized some of the pictures as photos she'd sent him, there were some that must have been from memory.

Emma's hands were shaking as she put the sheets of paper back into their hidden spot, and after she pushed the sketchbook back across the table to where she'd found it, she took an extra few minutes to ground herself. There was so much care in those drawings, so much feeling and she had to push down those emotions when she felt them in response because  _those feelings weren't supposed to be what they had_.

Those feelings threatened the stable understanding that they shared. They were just friends, perhaps a little more than friends but definitely not in love with each other because that did not  _work_.

Clearing her throat quietly against the lump there, she returned her glass to the sink, switched the light off and returned to the bedroom, hesitating in the doorway. Killian had stretched out in her absence, his arm reaching across the bed and his face pressed into her pillow. The sheet had dropped down to reveal most of his torso, and even after all these years she still felt a thrill of appreciation at the sight of him.

It was more than just how frustratingly attractive he was. There was a familiarity about him that she craved, and that she could never quite match with the other men that she filled her nights with when she was lonely. She knew that she'd crawl into bed and feel comforted and  _safe_  in the warmth of his arms, and it wouldn't be the same if it were just anybody.

She wanted this more than just every now and then, but she knew that it would never work. They'd tried once before and failed miserably, and she wasn't going to open herself up to such hurt again. Neither of them were prepared to give up the careers that they loved, and they just didn't work well enough together with the lifestyles that they led.

What they had was enough, she told herself.

But she wasn't looking forward to leaving tomorrow.

Killian groaned lightly, breaking her from her thoughts and she watched as he stretched out, reaching across her side of the bed again. In the dim moonlight peeking through the edges of the curtains, she saw his body stiffen and figured that he must have woken enough to find her gone. Sure enough, he pushed himself up onto his elbow, rubbed at his face, and then raised his head. 'Emma?'

His voice was thick with sleep, and she could only just make out the confused frown on his face. 'I'm here,' she said quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips at the adorable sight he made, her chest tightening painfully when he reached out to her.

'Come back to bed, darling,' he mumbled, just as a shiver went through her from the cold, and she finally pushed away from the doorframe, pulling his shirt over her head and tossing it aside just before she climbed under the covers that he'd lifted for her. Yes it was cold, but she craved the feeling of his bare skin on hers, and she didn't bother to deny that it was because it was him, more so than the feeling of any warm male body.

Like always, she fit perfectly against him with her back to his chest, curling her legs up and leaning more firmly against him, pulling his arm a little tighter when it snaked around her waist. His face pressed against the crook of her neck and she shared his tired, satisfied sigh at the closeness. She forcefully ignored the guilt that she felt at indulging in this comfort after seeing the drawings that he'd tried to hide from her. They had so little time, and surely it was only a few hours until she'd lose him again. Right now, she felt happy in his arms, and  _that_  was what she was going to focus on.

She tried to push the thoughts of those drawings as far as she could from her mind, because it was too much to think of him missing her the same way that she did him.

Slowly, her body relaxed in his arms, but her mind was just a little too restless for her to fall straight asleep. Killian's breathing remained deep and slow but he shifted behind her every now and then, and she wasn't sure how deeply he slept. She was just starting to drift off when he moved, his arm loosening from around her, his hand brushing across her stomach and then up and down her arm. Her skin tingled as the backs of his fingers trailed down her side and over her hip, moving as far down her thigh as he could reach before moving back upward.

The touch was somehow both relaxing and stimulating, and she couldn't help the way her breath caught at the feeling as he moved over her lower stomach and then up between her breasts. As he traced lightly around her nipple, he pressed more firmly against her back and she could feel him start to harden against her ass, sighing as his thumb briefly rubbed over her hardening nipple before his hand moved back down her side to retrace its path.

By the time it had come up again, she was all but squirming under his touch and this time, when he cupped her breast more fully, she pressed back against him as well, revelling in the light groan that he muffled against her neck. She was so tired after their late night and knowing she had to be up at a reasonable time, but she needed to make the most out of these hours too, knowing that she couldn't be certain when she'd see him again. He kissed the sensitive skin just below her ear, his other arm moving under her waist, his hand slipping between her legs, which parted far too easily for him.

He cupped her sex lightly, the tips of his fingers only just slipping through her folds and she was torn between arching into his touch or against where his cock was still rubbing against her ass. His finger found her clit and began to circle it lazily and she lifted her leg, allowing him better access. He slipped his cock between her thighs and then pressed them back together, not entering her but sliding against her hot centre. She was wet enough from his previous attentions that he moved against her easily, and she moaned at the way he was teasing her.

His other hand was still on her breast, his mouth on her neck and all together the sensations were almost too much. 'Killian,' she sighed, rocking her hips in time with his and he only grunted in response, moving just like he was fucking her until he shifted his angle just enough that she felt the head of his cock pressing against her entrance. Spreading her legs again to encourage him, she pressed back against him and finally,  _finally_  he pushed into her in one long, slow movement.

When he was fully inside her he stilled, and she didn't mind the chance to enjoy the feeling of him filling her, the angle stretching her differently than before. His hand moved from between her legs and came up to wrap around her middle, holding her as close to him as possible and for a moment she felt overwhelmed from the closeness, the intimacy. No matter what she pretended, how blasé they were with each other about the other people they slept with, nothing could ever come close to being with him like this. She gasped when he started to move, pulling out and then pushing back in slowly, setting a lazy, unhurried pace.

He knew just how to move to bring her the most pleasure, and this was no exception. She moved against him as best as she could, but found herself easily distracted by the feelings that he was drawing from her. Needing to touch him, she lifted her arm up and backwards, her fingers burying in his hair and bringing his mouth back to her neck. 'Emma,' he moaned against her skin, his voice thick and rough. Her free hand gripped at his, their fingers twisting together as they wrapped around her waist.

'Don't stop,' she gasped, because he was hitting just the right spot to make her see stars with every thrust that he made, and she could feel her pleasure starting to build quickly. His hand grasped at her thigh, pulling it up further before slipping between her legs, and she cried out as he pushed into her just a little deeper, as he started rubbing at her clit with a roughness that contradicted the leisurely way that he fucked her.

He only grunted in response, and when his fingers tightened their grip on hers and his pace picked up slightly, she realized that he might be just as close as she was. She grinded back against him harder, his breathless cursing only working her up more, his fingers working harder at her clit, the pressure inside her building and building and -

When she came, she felt it rolling through her to her toes, coursing through her veins with an intensity that usually came with hot, hard heavy sex, not this - this slow, sensual coupling. As she started to come down Killian's hand moved from between her legs to pull her against him even tighter, thrusting into her once, twice more before he stiffened, burying his head in the hollow of her neck.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, though his arms relaxed their grip around her waist, and their hands loosened but she was grateful when he didn't fully let go. Eventually he slipped out of her and rolled onto his back, pulling her with him and drawing the covers up over her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. It was so  _domestic_ , but she couldn't convince herself to care. She shifted until she was comfortable, her head finding its home on his shoulder, both of his arms wrapped around her.

'Emma,' he mumbled, and he already seemed to be drifting back to sleep from the slur in his voice and the way his breathing was slowing. She snuggled closer to him, knowing that it might not be for the best, knowing that the way this closeness was filling up the empty parts of her would only make things harder in the morning, but she unable to deny herself this moment of weakness because she never felt as happy as when she was in his arms.

There was a heaviness in her heart, and she pushed it down, down, because she wouldn't ruin this moment by acknowledging that this was more than just  _friends._


	4. Chapter 4

The next time Emma woke, it was to light streaming in through the sides of the curtains. She knew before she opened her eyes that she was alone - far too much of the blanket was twisted around her for her to be sharing, and the bed lacked the warmth that it always held when Killian was beside her.

Although she wouldn't have minded waking up in his arms again, she wasn't too worried. She could hear movement and faint humming coming from the kitchen, and wondered whether he was making coffee or breakfast.

Either sounded pretty fantastic.

Far too comfortable to move  _just_  yet, she rolled onto his side of the bed, stretching out her joints before groaning and relaxing again. Pressing her face into his pillow, she breathed in deeply, needing to absorb as much of this happiness as she could before she left for New York.

She could never let him know how hard it was to say goodbye each time.

And she wouldn't let herself dwell on it now, either. Picking up her phone from the bedside table, she was relieved that she hadn't slept in late enough to miss her flight. Even though she'd have to go past her hotel to fix the bill and pick up her belongings, she still had enough time that she didn't have to rush.

_And are you going to spend all that time in bed?_

Giving herself a moment more for one last big stretch, she reluctantly dragged herself from the bed, taking the sheet with her and wrapping it around herself. The sounds of movement continued in the other room, and she managed to sneak into the bathroom to wash her face before meeting Killian in the kitchen.

He was standing at the kitchen counter with his back to her when she entered the room, his head nodding slightly in time to the tune that he was humming. He was shirtless, barefoot, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and the signs of domesticity in a person who pretended to know no such thing made her lips curve into a smile.

But then the thought of a domesticated Killian Jones brought back her memories of last night, and the drawings that she definitely hadn't meant to have seen. The was usually a lot of care in his art, but this was something else; the feeling in her image was something that she hadn't known before. Except she had, in her own emotions that she stomped down and labelled as dangerous: never to touch.

She must have made a sound, or else Killian was psychic - he glanced over his shoulder and smiled at her warmly, apparently completely unsurprised to see her. He did, however, appear to be surprised by her clothes - or lack of - by the way his eyebrows shot up.

Dropping the slices of bread in his hands into the toaster, he turned toward her, leaning back on the counter. 'Tell me, love, how you expect me to make you an appropriate breakfast when you come out looking like that.'

This was the flirty Killian that she knew, and she embraced it fully. Feigning innocence, she glanced down at herself, shrugging when she looked back up at him. 'I don't know what you mean. I'm perfectly covered up.'

Which was true. But she'd have been disappointed if the sight of her dressed only in a sheet didn't have some sort of effect on him.

His lips twitched and she fought a grin herself, until she saw the heat developing in his eyes. Swallowing down the sudden lump in her throat, she watched him carefully as he pushed off from the counter and practically  _stalked_  across the kitchen until he stood right in front of her. 'If you're not careful, then I'll have to drag you back to bed,' he said, one hand resting on her hip while the other cupped her cheek, his thumb dragging across her lower lip and damn it, how was it possible for him to rile her up so easily? It wasn't her fault that her tongue darted out of its own accord to taste his skin, or that when he bent to kiss her, her lips parted so readily under his. Her skin raised in goosebumps when his arm slipped around her waist to pull her bodily towards him, their bodies pressed together, his hand in her hair. Before long she found herself clinging to him as well, her hands clutching his shoulder and the back of his neck, his fingers roaming over her naked back, the sheet forgotten, barely held up by the press of their bodies against each other.

The feel of his hands on her and the insistent way that he kissed her was almost enough to distract her from their surroundings. Apparently he was a little more aware than she was, but she could still feel his reluctance when he tore his mouth from hers. 'The toast is ready,' he murmured against her lips.

Keeping her eyes closed, she pressed her forehead against his. 'Screw the toast.'

He chuckled, giving her one last, firm kiss before pulling away. Holding the sheet to her chest, she opened her eyes to see him looking her over quite thoroughly before turning and reaching for the toaster. 'As much as you _know_  I'd be happy to oblige, there is no way that you'd be getting on that plane if we go back to bed now.'

Even though she was sure that Killian was joking, Emma felt the temptation strongly, and it took her a minute of dumbly watching the muscles of his back move before she could remind herself that there were important things waiting for her in New York. He started to turn back to her, probably to question her, and she moved quickly, gathering the sheet around her again and ducking into the living room to find her clothes.

Last night's dress would have to do for now since her suitcase was in her hotel room, so she pulled it on, found her shoes to put on before she left, and combed her fingers through her hair in an attempt to tame it. Heading back into the kitchen, she made quick work of the first piece of toast that Killian had prepared for her, ignored the way he looked her over in her dress for the sake of time, and drank down her coffee. 'Thanks for breakfast,' she said, brushing her fingers over his bare arm on her way to take her mug to the sink.

'Of course,' he said, taking the mug from her. 'You don't want a shower?'

'I'll have one at the hotel,' she told him, 'where I can put on clean clothes.'

'Fair enough. I'll get dressed and then drive you there. I can give you a lift to the airport as well,' he offered.

She knew better than to tell him that surely it was too much of a hassle for him and to try to talk him out of it, so instead she just smiled to show her gratitude. He returned it easily, pressing a kiss to the side of her head before disappearing down the hall.

Knowing that it wouldn't take him long, she set about getting the last of her things together, trying not to think too hard about how she felt to be leaving this little sanctuary and returning to her regular life by the afternoon. Since she'd left from the hotel's restaurant, she only had a few things on her; shoes, coat, clutch. Opening the purse, she checked for her cards, keys, cash, and slipped her phone inside.

Slipping on her heels, she returned to the kitchen to finish off that last piece of toast, but had barely lifted it to her mouth before Killian entered the room again, this time fully dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. 'You ready?' he asked, smiling at her as he grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter.

'Yep,' she said, taking a larger bite of the toast as he passed her to head into the living room. Stepping on the peddle to lift the lid of the trash can, she tossed in the remains of her breakfast. She'd be able to get something to eat at the hotel, or at... the airport...

Frowning, she lifted the lid of the bin again and stared down at the thing that had caught her eye just a moment ago. Thinking back to when she'd checked her purse, she reached inside, pulling out the small rectangle card that had a hand written number on it.

Now that she thought about it, the card hadn't been in her purse.

'You coming?'

A twisting feeling forming in her stomach, Emma slowly raised her head to see Killian leaning against the doorframe. Lifting the card so that he could see it, she watched him carefully for his reaction. 'Why is the card with Graham's number on it in your trash?'

His eyes became guarded just a moment before the smile faded from his face. 'I don't know, love. Must have ended up there last night with the take out rubbish.'

Fingers tightening on the small piece of cardboard, her brow furrowed uncertainly. 'It was sitting on top,' she told him. She watched curiously as his jaw twitched, and she wondered whether it really took that much effort to keep a straight face or whether she was looking too much into it. 'Did you throw it out?' she asked, confused.

'Well,' he said slowly, 'it's not as though you need it.'

She wasn't sure how she was supposed to be reacting, because she couldn't for the life of her figure out what was going on. 'I won't need it this time, because you were here and now I'm going home,' she said carefully. 'But next time you might not be here. He's just good company, and you know how hard it can be to find somebody discreet at short notice. There's no harm in keeping it.'

He didn't reply straight away, pausing long enough for her to put a name to the heaviness settling in her chest: apprehension. Something was going on here that she didn't quite understand (or maybe she did, but she wasn't ready to accept it).

'Fair enough,' he said eventually, before stepping back out of the kitchen and out of sight, and she stared dumbly at the empty doorway.

_What is going on with him?_

Feeling completely flummoxed, she followed him slowly into the living room, thumbing the edge of the card thoughtfully, to find him putting his wallet into the back of his jeans. Picking up her purse, she tucked the card inside but then hesitated. She looked at the card, then up to Killian, at the card, at Killian, and the truth that she'd tried to hold at bay came crashing down on her all at once.

_He's jealous._

_And how do you feel about that?_

_I... I..._

He was waiting for her by the door, an eyebrow raised in question, and she knew that she shouldn't push it. She had a plane to catch, a job to go back to, and no matter what he felt, he'd clearly chosen to drop the matter when he'd left the kitchen. But the words came before she could stop herself.

'This is our deal, Killian,' she said, regretting pursing the topic as soon as she'd spoken, but she kept going anyway now that she'd started, knowing that it had to be said. 'Just because it's our home town doesn't mean that the rules are any different. And I left with you, even though I was out with him.'

Killian just nodded, his face a mask of indifference, but she could see a tightness to his jaw that she knew meant that he was holding back. 'You're right,' he said calmly. 'I didn't mean to imply otherwise.'

Of course, his placating tone only served to rile her up. 'If there's a problem -'

'No problem, love.'

'But -'

'It's fine. But, we  _do_  have to go.'

As much as she knew he was right, there was no way that she could leave without making sure that everything was fine between them, and she did not for a second believe him when he was being so obviously dismissive. Steeling herself, she dropped her purse onto the couch beside her and took a step toward him, ignoring the way he sighed heavily at her tenacity. 'Spill,' she said flatly.

He just looked at her, his jaw clenched, and she mentally cursed him for being just as stubborn as she was. Groaning in frustration, she threw her hands up. 'Seriously, Killian?'

She watched him pause, swallow, then turn away. 'Just drop it, Emma,' he said as he pulled open the apartment door, a warning heavy in his voice.

It was a warning that she promptly ignored. 'You don't fool me,' she said, standing her ground, 'you  _never_  fool me, and I'd much rather sort out whatever this is here in person than on the phone in a week when you get sick of brooding. Is it Graham? Does it  _really_  bother you that much?'

His shoulders tensed and she held her breath, nervous and dreading his response. The drawings that she'd seen the night before were still heavy in her mind, and she wondered if there was any correlation with the noticeable care in her image and the way he was acting. Or perhaps it was just this guy in particular that Killian had the problem with, or that Killian had met him - she could admit that that might be a bit weird. Either way, he'd been acting normally until she'd mentioned the phone number, and now...

Letting the door fall closed, he turned slowly, and as he did the amount of effort that he was putting into staying neutral became more obvious. His jaw clenched, loosened, clenched again. There was a tightness to his eyes and an intentional evenness to his breathing. It wasn't anger behind his carefully constructed guard but maybe frustration and distress. He swallowed before speaking. 'This is not the time for what needs to be said,' he said carefully.

She narrowed her eyes at him. 'So you admit that something's wrong.'

'That's not what I meant -'

'And you expect me to just forget about it until the next time we see each other - which could be months from now?'

'What do you want me to tell you, Emma?'

'Tell me what's going on!'

She'd all but shouted in her exasperation and confusion. Killian's shoulders slumped, his eyes slipping shut; when he opened them his guard was down, and her breath hitched at the defeat in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice was tired, so tired.

'I can't do this anymore.'


	5. Chapter 5

'I can't do this anymore.'

Emma stared at him dumbly, shocked out of her frustration, her anger. Even her confusion seemed muted; she just felt blank. Killian's hand rubbed roughly at his face, his skin stretching, and surely it must have hurt his eyes to be pressed so hard. When he looked at her again, it was with all of the emotion that she wasn't able to process just yet, but the main thing that she saw was pain and  _oh_ , had  _she_  caused that?

She was lost for words, feeling like she was lagging behind in the conversation. She'd thought that they were on the same page, that maybe he cared just a little too much ( _yeah, because you don't, right?_ ), but that things would be okay. But this...

'We can't continue like this,' he continued, his voice quiet but clear. 'I can't cope with having you so completely -' he lifted his hand as though to reach for her, but then let it drop '-and then letting you go like it means nothing to me. I can't think about you with other men, without going mad. Just the thought of you last night if I hadn't been there...' She could hear the anger in his voice as he turned away, and something that sounded suspiciously like self loathing. 'I can't look at you when you're sleeping beside me, without thinking about someone else seeing you like that, and I... I just can't. Not anymore.'

'You think that this isn't hard for me, too?' she asked, finally finding her voice. It was bad enough that he was taking issue with one man that she didn't even sleep with, but could he be any more hypocritical since he did just as she did. 'I hear just as much as you about whoever the flavour of the town is. That's the no secrets part of our deal, remember?'

He watched her silently for a few seconds as though considering her, then let his breath out heavily. 'Emma, I haven't been with anyone else. Not since Berlin.'

Since Berlin? She remembered the time that he meant - the two of them locked in a hotel room for three days. She'd been there on holiday and the band had a few days between shows, and she'd felt the happiest that she'd been in a long time. But -

'That was over a year ago,' she said uncertainly.

He nodded, taking a step toward her, then another, until he stood right before her. 'I couldn't do it anymore,' he said quietly. 'Every time I looked at them I saw your face, and I was reminded that I couldn't be with the one person I wanted. So I stopped taking the girls home. I'd still flirt a bit to keep up appearances,' he added with a shrug, 'but that's all it was.'

Emma stared up at him as he looked down at her, her face blank but her mind screaming for thinking so fast. He'd stopped being with other women because it was too hard - but what was so hard about it? They didn't have any commitment to each other except for honesty, and that was the one thing that he'd broken. 'So you lied to me,' she said dully.

His eyebrows raised as though surprised by her reaction, before his shoulders slumped. 'You were happy.'

And she was - when she was with him, or when other people made her forget about him for a little while. The fact that her methods hadn't been doing that quite so well lately was completely irrelevant. But now, now she felt dirty - the knowledge that he hadn't been with other people while she had been  _did_  make her feel bad for not being monogamous ( _we're not even_ in  _a relationship, damn it!)_ , and the thought of him being alone by choice while she'd been enjoying other men...

She felt chilled inside, and confused, and she knew that it came out in her voice. 'I thought this was what you wanted. It's what we both wanted.'

'It was... but now it's not. It's not enough, anymore.'

'You want to stop?' she asked slowly, her tone flat and dull but that was all that she could manage. Saying it aloud sent a chill through her and she felt as though a cold hand clutched her heart and held it hostage, waiting for his response.

She didn't want to have to live in a world without him in it. Her life was lonely enough, despite the things that she tried to fill it with - the right people were never around when she needed them, and the friendships that she made were only their strongest on the current job - and she didn't know how she'd cope without the assurance that she'd be with him again soon.

She liked to think that she didn't need anybody, but she knew that she was lying to herself.

_Didn't he need her just as much?_

Killian shook his head and for one ridiculous moment, she was convinced that he could see into her mind, he didn't need her after all, she had to stop kidding herself that he cared. Squashing that thought down angrily, she forced herself to breathe.

'I couldn't stop you if I tried, Emma,' he said, and damn him for making her name feel like a caress when she was feeling so lost. 'I don't want to stop. I want everything,' he said, reaching up to brush his fingers against her cheek, and his touch felt like fire on her skin. 'I want to go to bed with you every night beside me, and see your face every morning when I wake up. I want to spend time with you and not have to pretend that we mean so little to each other. I want to live in a big old house with our seven dogs and a dozen children,' he said, the corner of his lip curling up and although she knew he was joking, there was an intensity in his eyes that said he meant all of the rest. 'I want to make  _plans_  with you, Emma. I want to be with you.'

Her breath was coming just a little bit too hard, her skin tingling all over. She stared up at Killian, seeing nothing but truth no matter where she looked, seeing nothing but want and - no, she couldn't think about it. His words painted a beautiful picture, one that she couldn't deny that she'd thought about, especially on her loneliest nights when he felt too far away, but that's all it was: dreams, wishes, what if's. And that's all it could ever be, right?

'We tried,' she said, her voice coming out far too small for everything that she felt. 'Don't you remember? We were both miserable. It was just too hard to be together but so alone. And even if we tried, you know it wouldn't be like that,' she said, taking half a step back. His hand dropped slowly from her face. 'We wouldn't be waking up next to each other, Killian. I'd be waking up alone to work my sixteen hour days while you're off being a rockstar on the other side of the world. We don't get to have these...' she hesitated, searching for the right words. 'These normal lives,' she said, finally. 'This isn't us.'

'It could be,' he said, then hesitated, sucking his bottom lip in, and when he spoke again, the words came out in a rush. 'Emma, the band's breaking up.'

_What?_

'What?' she asked, just as stunned by this as everything else that he'd said. Was nothing what she thought it was anymore?

'Well, not breaking up, per se,' he clarified, stepping back and sinking down onto the couch. 'Taking a break.' His hands ran through his hair tiredly before settling on his lap, and when he looked up at her again she couldn't see one ounce of the sadness or regret that she'd expected. 'We've barely stopped for breath since we finished school,' he reminded her. 'I love playing and I love the music, but it's getting tiring. We're finishing up the last few shows of the tour, then we're done. For a good while, anyway.'

Her other turmoil forgotten for now, Emma dazedly walked over to sit beside him, staring at the coffee table in front of them, choosing not to linger on the way he stiffened slightly next to her. This was a huge deal; this was his  _life._  And she wasn't sure how she felt about only just finding out about it now. 'What does everyone else think?' she asked eventually, not sure what else to say.

She felt him move and knew he'd shrugged without looking. 'It wasn't my idea, but I agreed with it readily enough. It was Robin, actually. Ever since he and Regina married, they've been itching to start a family, and life on the road isn't the best way to raise a child. And Victor won't talk about it unless he's plastered, but he and Ruby are getting pretty serious.'

'And Jeff?' she asked, filing away all of her other thoughts for later. The other members of his band had become just as much family to her as anybody else had. Ruby was a guitarist in another band and Emma had actually met her before she'd met the boys, and she knew all too well just how deal over heals she was with Killian's bassist.

Killian huffed a laugh, and she finally turned her head to look at him. 'Well. Jeff. It turns out that our mate Jefferson's had a sweetheart at home that he's been keeping under wraps. He doesn't really have a throat infection - he's just become a father.'

She jerked upright in her seat, her eyes widening. ' _What?_ '

'Sorry for lying,' he said with a grin. 'He wanted to tell you himself. They named her Grace.'

Jefferson, a father...  _wow._

The feeling of a hand sliding over hers, fingers twining lightly through hers, brought her out of her surprise, and she was reminded just what else was going on. 'I know that your next gig is probably going to be a TV show rather than a film,' he said carefully, 'and that would mean a little bit of settling down for you, too. I thought that perhaps I could live with you, then we'd still have some time together despite your long hours.'

Pulling her hand out from under his, she jumped to her feet and away, putting some distance between them again because it sounded just a little too good. 'And what are you going to do?' she asked incredulously. 'Twiddle your thumbs all day? Sit around and smoulder for a living?'

'I dunno,' he said, grinning at her and she could have strangled him for that teasing glint in his eye. 'Maybe I could get a real job.' She pressed her lips together to stop herself from grinning at the idea of him working a normal job - or, how well his potential co-workers would cope with having him around. He hurried on before she could say anything. 'I thought it was a good time to take a step back from that life anyway,' he said, losing all tones of humour. 'I want to focus on my art. I don't care if no one sees it, I just want to do something that I love for a while.'

'You do have a lot of talent,' she said, looking away from him because talking about things like this was easier than thinking about the rest of it. 'But you can't tell me that you don't love your screaming fan girls.'

'Not as much as I love you.'

Her breath sucked in quickly and she looked up at his despite herself, to find him watching her with nothing but honesty and seriousness. Shaking her head, she swallowed hard before speaking, pushing all of her conflicting emotions down, down. 'No, you can't -'

'I can, and I do,' he said, pushing himself to his feet and the frustration that had started this conversation was back, clear on his face. 'You need to stop running away from me, from us. From what we  _could_ have. Do you really think that it wouldn't work, or are you truly happy with the way things are?'

'I'm not happy, no,' she snapped, with apparently more force than she'd intended because his shoulders stiffened, but couldn't stop the words now that they were coming, with no time for regret. 'I miss you more than I can believe sometimes, Killian! I never feel so lonely as I do just after I leave, or you do, no matter who I try and surround myself with, and I am so _tired_  of trying to substitute what I have with you with some random guy because I feel just as empty the next day.'

Hope flashed across his features and he took a step toward her. 'Emma -'

She held up her hand to stop him. 'But if we try,' she continued, her voice dropping low and uneven, 'and it doesn't work out, then I'll have nothing left.' She felt like a hand was closing tightly around her heart and tears were starting to gather in her eyes but she'd be damned if she let them fall. 'I can't break the last thing that matters to me.'

He'd stopped at her gesture and listened to her speak, but when she finished he barely hesitated before taking a deliberate step toward her, then another, until he was standing right in front of her. He had a strange look on his face, not anything she'd been expecting, like sadness or disappointment. She thought maybe that it was certainty. 'I love you,' he said, quietly but clearly.

Her eyes slid closed, and she gave herself the barest second to enjoy those words before she ruined it. 'Don't -'

'No. Emma, I love you, and I know you love me too. I know you probably don't let yourself admit it to yourself because I  _know you_ , but I believe it with everything I have.' He paused, and after a moment she opened her eyes to find him watching her. 'I know we're both messed up, but neither of us are the people that we used to be. Maybe there's enough pieces between us to hold both of us together. But if we don't even give it a proper chance...'

It felt like her heart was beating right out of her chest. He was right, he'd always been right; she'd never stopped loving him, no matter what she pretended, but the idea of giving in to that was terrifying.

_What if everything fell apart?_

But she knew that they couldn't continue like this anymore.

'Okay,' she whispered, and it felt as though a weight dissolved from around her - a weight that had been there for years. 'Okay,' she said more firmly, and then his arms were around her, gathering her tightly to him, and it was all she could do to remember how to breathe. He pulled back, but only enough to lower his mouth to hers and she whimpered at the passion behind his kiss, tasting her and claiming her and it wasn't enough, no, not for her to express everything that was feeling. Relief, fear, longing, hope; it was far too much but she poured herself into him anyway, and by the time they broke apart she was breathless, her head spinning.

But his arms were holding her steady, his warmth calming her nerves, and it was hard to hold on to her doubts when he looked at her like she was the sun.


	6. Chapter 6

Emma stared unseeingly at the clear lines that the water left as it trailed down the shower screen, standing motionless and just letting the water run over her body. She'd finished washing herself a few minutes ago, but she couldn't move. Not just yet.

Killian was on the other side of the door in her hotel room, likely still on the phone to the airline, trying to get her another flight since hers had left without her half an hour ago. The boyish grin hadn't left his face since they'd left his apartment, and she'd felt nervous but just as ecstatic. Until she was alone.

_What the hell am I doing?_

She was worried that she'd been caught up in the moment, blinded by the what if, the if only. All of the things that he said he wanted, she wanted too, and she was beyond denying that now. If she was honest with herself, she couldn't remember a time when she'd known him and she hadn't loved him, but she knew that love wasn't always enough.

It hadn't been enough, the last time they'd tried.

Surely he couldn't be happy to be on break from the band, she thought. He could go solo for a while, if he wanted to. He'd certainly be able to pull it off. But what if he got bored of working on his art all day? (She knew he wouldn't.) What if he got bored of settling down? What if he got bored of her?

What if they got bored of each other?

If they really gave this a shot, she knew that she wouldn't miss the one night stands. They were only a substitute for the real thing anyway, and now she had a chance to have that real thing around all of the time. But the idea of having someone,  _anyone_ , around all of the time, scared her more than she thought that it would.

It wasn't that she was afraid of the commitment. Not really. But when would she find time for herself? She liked being alone. In control. Not having to answer to anyone. How much of that was going to change?

She could hear movement in the next room. Taking a deep breath, she held it and closed her eyes, leaning back directly under the showerhead. The water cascaded over her, plastering her hair to her head and filling her ears, blocking out everything else.

She didn't like that, either.

Moving her head out of the water, she pushed her wet hair out of her eyes and rubbed her hands over her face. She was scared of being alone, but she  _liked_  to be alone.

Or maybe that was just what she was used to.  _(Or what you think you deserve)_.

She jumped when there was a knock to the bathroom door, and it started to open before she could say anything - she wasn't sure she'd have been able to find her voice quickly enough, anyway. Killian poked his head through the door, his featured distorted by the misted glass of the shower.

'I managed to get you on another flight, but I couldn't get one straight away - we've got about an hour until we have to leave. And I called Belle for you, too. She got stuck in meetings herself, so she was happy to reschedule for dinner, which will give you time to drop your things at your apartment and not have to rush.'

Emma opened her mouth to say thank you, but the words wouldn't come, stuck there by the tightness of her throat. Here she was, worrying endlessly in the shower, while he did everything he could to make things easier for her just because he wanted to. Even contacting her manager to reschedule...

She cleared her throat to answer him, but her pause had been long enough for him to step further into the bathroom and even if she couldn't see the concern on his face through the glass, she heard it in his voice. 'Emma? Are you all right?'

'Fine,' she said, too quickly apparently, because he lost all hesitation and stepped fully into the bathroom, closing the door behind him and approaching the stall. She stood there woodenly as he opened the door, forced herself to meet his eyes when he looked at her with far too much understanding.

'Tell me,' he said gently.

Swallowing to clear that lump in her throat, Emma forced the words out, knowing that if this were to have even a chance at working, their openness couldn't stop now. 'What if, after we move in together, we realise we can't stand each other?' she asked, her voice barely audible over the sound of the shower. Taking a deep breath, she raised her voice but lowered her gaze, feeling stupid and insecure and frazzled. 'What if we only work when it's not always?' How long would it take for the longing to go away, for the two of them to get bored of each other? What if he decided later on that she wasn't enough for him anymore? What was going to happen when the band started working together again?

All of these thoughts thundered through her head, and she wondered how many of them he saw on her face. Clearly too much (always too much) because he stepped back, his hand dropping from the shower door. Her heart started to sink -  _why did she have to ruin everything? Why couldn't she just have some faith?_ \- but he wasn't leaving like she thought. She watched, confused, as he pulled his t-shirt over his head, then looked up to meet her gaze as his hands went to his belt.

'What are you doing?' she asked wearily.

He didn't answer straight away, just finished stripping off and came back to the shower, pulling open the glass door. She stepped back automatically, not knowing what else to do, but as soon as his arms came around her it felt like the most natural thing in the world. He pulled her impossibly close, one arm around her back and the other hand on the back of her head, his fingers threading through her wet hair. Her forehead fell to his shoulder, her eyes closing, and she felt herself melting into his warmth despite the comparable heat of the water. She felt  _safe._  Her arms went around him automatically, her skin slippery against his as the water washed over him, and this feeling of completeness made her heart ache in a way that surely couldn't be a good thing.

_Because she didn't get the good thing, the good thing didn't work, the good thing went on tour and never looked back -_

'Emma,' he murmured, his lips brushing against her forehead like a caress as he spoke. He kissed her temple, her cheek, her lips gently before pulling back enough to look at her, his hand leaving the back of her head to cup her cheek. 'I'm  _not_  going to get sick of you. I've been in love with you since we were kids, and that's not going to change whether we live in the same house or on other sides of the world. The _only_ thing that I want is to be with you.'

She breathed in, out, trying to find some semblance of calm to balance the pounding of her heart. 'Promise me,' she said, staring up at him desperately. 'Promise me that we're not going to fall apart.'

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at her warmly, his thumb brushing over her cheek. 'Don't you see? We're going to put each other back together.'

Her lower lip was  _definitely_  not trembling when she leaned up on her tiptoes to press her mouth against his, her hand clinging to the back of his head because she just couldn't get close enough. His faith in them was enough for her to push her own fears down, at least for now, and she thought that those very fears were something that would disappear when his broken pieces met hers. Killian sighed, leaning into her, and she knew this would be enough - if this wasn't, then she didn't know what could be.

'I love you,' she said, pulling away only long enough to tell him before pulling him back to her, parting his lips with her own, groaning at the intensity with which he kissed her. She normally couldn't get enough of him but this was different, this was more, and despite the sincerity of the moment between them - or perhaps because of it - she wasn't surprised to feel his body stirring against hers, or hers responding in turn. She had no doubt that his intention had been comfort when he'd stripped down and pulled her into his arms, but it didn't take long for that intent to turn into something else. It never did, with them.

Still, she could tell he was holding back from the tension in his shoulders under her hands, but she wasn't interested in holding back, not now. He'd managed to gain them some extra time before her flight, and she was going to make the most of it, especially since she wasn't going to see him for at least a week by the time he finished the last shows of his tour. So, she held him closer, tilting her hips to rub against the hardness pressing against her stomach, swallowing his resulting moan. 'Please, Killian,' she murmured.

Muttering a curse, his hand moved from her cheek, trailing down her body, squeezing roughly at her breast before slipping down between her legs, and when he finally touched her, her hips jerked toward him of their own accord. His mouth left hers as his fingers started tracing circles around her clit, pressing soft kisses against her cheek, her jaw, then hungrily mouthing at her neck as he teased at her entrance, his teeth closing over her shoulder,  _hard_ , when he slid a finger inside of her.

She was sure that her knees were about to give out from underneath her, but then his arm tightened around her waist and she was leaning back against the cold tiles, losing herself in the thrust of his fingers.

The cool tiles at her back were a bizarre contrast to the heat of Killian's body where it pressed against her, and the warmth of the water where it was blocked by his body. He lifted his head from her neck to kiss her slowly, thoroughly, at the same time bending his fingers inside her, causing her to lift her hips into him and dig her fingers into his shoulders. He was rubbing his body against hers now, and she let go of his shoulder to take him in her hand but before she could, his thumb was rubbing at her clit and she was approaching the edge faster than she'd expected, breaking their kiss to gasp in air, the tension building, building,  _oh_  -

Her legs were still trembling as he turned off the shower. When he leaned down, his hands grabbing her thighs and lifting her off the ground, she couldn't help a nervous giggle when he almost slipped on the wet shower floor. But then she settled against him, felt the heat of him right between her legs and her laughter dissolved into a moan, unable to stop herself from moving her hips against him to find some sort of friction.

She thought she heard a mutter of a curse, but he was already stepping out of the shower and over to the vanity. Pressing open mouthed kisses to his neck, she kept one arm firmly around his neck and threw the other one out behind her, sweeping the few items off of the small bench just before he set her down on it, standing between her legs, and then it was only a quick adjustment of his hips against hers and he was pressing against her, a choked sound falling from his mouth as he slid home, filling her up in a way that she  _knew_  she'd never get tired of.

She didn't let him pull out again just yet, but wrapped her arms and legs around him, pressing her chest against his, delighting in the way that their wet bodies slid against each other, kissing him hungrily when his arms came around her again. 'I love you,' she said again, running her fingers through his wet hair, her fingers tightening when he started to move inside her.

'I love you so much,' he told her, his voice strained, one hand gripping her hip tightly and the other sliding up the back of her neck, his light touch sending a shiver through her. 'And I can't tell you how good it feels to finally tell you that again.'

'I know,' she told him, and she did. 'I know.'

His head dropped to her shoulder as he pushed into her, an unrestrained moan falling from his lips, and she thought she knew what he was feeling. It felt different, like she could feel every thrust in every nerve, like this closeness was all-consuming. She felt every movement echoing in her chest, at the same time too much and yet not enough. Every grunt and groan that came from Killian fuelled her own desire, every drag against her already sensitive walls sent her higher again, and she knew it wouldn't be long before she fell over that edge once more.

'Killian, I -' she tried, the words dissolving into a moan as he pushed into her harder, faster. ' _Just like that_.'

Groaning her name, he kept at that same angle, hitting her in just the right spot to make her toes curl, but after a few seconds his thrusts started to become more erratic. 'Emma, you feel... I can't... God, I'm -'

She could tell he was close, short sounds coming with every breath, and she was  _almost_ there. 'Touch me,' she said, her teeth digging into her lip when he obliged her immediately, his hand slipping between them, his thumb rubbing firmly at her clit. 'Just like - oh, don't stop -'

She watched him as his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth fell open, his whole body tensing but he didn't stop fucking her, his touch and the sight of his pleasure was enough to set hers off, the tension building and then snapping, her body tightening around his as she came.

As she relaxed, Killian did too, the two of them leaning against each other even as their grips loosened. Closing her eyes, she sighed at the feel of his lips brushing against the top of her head, grateful for this extra time.

And that's why trying a proper relationship was going to be a good thing, she reminded herself as her heart rate gradually slowed to normal, her doubts fading away. Yes, things would undoubtedly come up and get in the way, but their time would be their own.

This was going to work. She'd make sure of it. She was all in.

When they got out of Killian's car at the airport - her hair still wet, tied up in a messy bun - he insisted on carrying her suitcase. 'Gentleman,' he reminded her with a smirk and a wink, and she was sure that the act of rolling her eyes lost its effect when she was grinning as much as she was, but she couldn't find it in herself to care.

His other hand held firmly onto hers, and she couldn't care about that, either. In fact, when his fingers started to loosen, she tightened hers.

He waited with her while she checked her suitcase and got her ticket, and lined up with her to go through security. The process was uneventful, and today seemed to be the kind of day where, even if they were recognised, they weren't bombarded immediately for pictures and autographs. There was a group of girls standing in line a half a dozen people or so ahead of them, who collapsed into a fit of giggles when Killian waved at them.

She didn't have a great deal of time to spare so they went straight to the gate after checking the number on her ticket, finding a couple of spare seats along the wall. As they sat, Killian's hand found hers again and squeezed it tightly, and she looked at him questioningly.

'It's going to be a long week,' he admitted, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of her hand.

She nodded her agreement, leaning back in her chair so that they were shoulder to shoulder. 'You'll have to tell Jeff congratulations for me,' she said.

The corners of his lips twitched upward. 'He'll not be happy that I spilled the beans. He wanted to tell you himself.' He seemed to hesitate, scratching at the back of his neck in his most obvious nervous tell. 'Emma -'

'I'm not going to change my mind,' she told him firmly, guessing his worries correctly by the way he instantly relaxed. 'I'll be waiting for you as soon as your tour finishes, and if all goes well with this audition, and the show gets picked up, we'll start looking for apartments wherever they choose to film. And then maybe you can draw some pictures of me when I know that you're doing it,' she added lightly, trying to hide her grin.

He'd stiffened again straight away, watching her carefully. 'I... pictures?'

He looked so worried that she couldn't help but laugh. 'I found them last night,' she told him, squeezing his hand reassuringly. 'You'll have to show me properly when you get to New York.'

He still seemed cautious, despite her deliberately easy tone. 'You don't mind?' he asked slowly. 'You didn't say anything this morning...'

'I was scared of what they meant this morning,' she admitted, leaning back again and resting her head on his shoulder. 'I'm not scared anymore.'

Slowly, finally, he relaxed.

It felt like hardly any time at all before they were calling her flight, and she reluctantly pushed herself to her feet, pulling the strap of her handbag over her shoulder. Feeling a little nervous herself now, she looked up at Killian, who had a small smile playing at his lips as he reached forward to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear that had escaped her bun, the two of them ignoring the bustle around them as people lined up to board the plane. 'Will you call me tonight to let me know how things go with Belle?' he asked.

'Okay,' she said, her eyes darting over his face. Somehow, this felt different than normal. Usually, when they parted, it was without knowing when they'd see each other again, and that was hard enough. Maybe this felt more difficult, because she wasn't hiding what it truly felt like to say goodbye.

Killian appeared to be having the same thoughts, if the tender look on his face was anything to go by. 'I'll miss you,' he said.

How many times had they denied each other those words? How many times had she denied  _herself_  those words?

No more.

And she could give him more than words.

Determinedly ignoring the people still around them - some of which she knew had recognised them - she reached out, grabbed his shirt by the collar and pulled him down, pressing her mouth to his.

He kissed her back after only a moment's hesitation, but pulled away far too soon. Her hands tightened on his shirt to stop him backing away entirely. 'I'm pretty sure that guy over there has his phone on us,' he said by way of explanation. 'We'll be all over the internet within half an hour.'

They've very rarely been photographed together, and never in any kind of compromising way. But - 'I don't care,' she said, but didn't move, giving him the choice. The barest second passed before his arms came around her, his mouth closing over hers and she let herself get swept up in the moment, thrilling in the fact that they weren't going to hide, not from each other, not from the world.

The grin on Killian's face mirrored hers when they finally broke apart, but her carefree feeling soon turned into embarrassment when she looked around to see the people nearest to them quickly averting their gazes. And she definitely saw a few phones pointed in their direction.

Killian's hand on her cheek drew her attention back to him, and he smiled at her wryly. 'The secret's out.'

'I don't regret it,' she told him, meaning it completely. She leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. 'But I do need to get on the plane, or I'll miss that one, too.'

He pulled her in for another hug, and she felt a little colder when he let go. 'I'll see you soon,' he said quietly. 'I love you.'

'I love you, too.' She couldn't resist one last quick kiss, and when she finally sat down in her seat on the plane, she pressed her fingers to her lips. She felt like so much was different now than this time yesterday, even though the only thing that truly had changed was a lack of denial.

She knew that she loved, and was loved, and that changed everything.


	7. Epilogue

'What the hell do you mean, you're not there yet?'

Closing her eyes, Emma banged her head back against the headrest, huffing out her breath and swatting her hand across when she heard muffled laughter from beside her. She was in a mixed state of tired and excited, and she fought against the disappointment that started to bring her down far too quickly. It had been a long day at work, their first day on set for the second episode now that the pilot had been picked up, and the excitement of the new job had  _almost_  been enough to carry her through the sixteen hour day. Knowing that Killian would  _finally_  be here in Atlanta, waiting for her in their new apartment with a smile on his face and his welcoming arms around her had taken her the rest of the way.

'There was a mix up with my luggage at the airport,' came his voice through the phone. 'I'm waiting for a taxi now.'

She sighed heavily, opening her eyes to roll them in Elsa's direction. 'He hasn't even left the airport yet,' she told her in exasperation.

This time Elsa didn't bother to hide her laugh. 'Aw, and after you've been talking about seeing him all day.'

She felt her face warm, but swallowed her protest that she'd only mentioned it once or twice. She normally wasn't the oversharing type, but she'd found a fast friend in Elsa ever since she'd met her when they'd first been cast. She'd been in Atlanta for two weeks now, buying furniture for their new place while he finished up his business for the band in Boston, playing a last string of shows at local venues to support charities in their hometown before they called it quits for the foreseeable future.

Her embarrassment only grew at the pleased sound that came through the phone. 'Oh, you've been talking about me?'

'Shut it,' she said shortly, and he hummed in response but didn't say anything more. Idiot.

'We can pick him up if you like?' Elsa offered.

She was almost tempted to accept the offer, but they were only a few minutes from her apartment and Elsa had had just as long a day as she had; she was unwilling to put her out further since she'd already gone out of her way to give her a lift to and from work. Still, she hesitated, not wanting to make Killian wait any longer than he had to, but the decision was made for her when he spoke again anyway.

'Tell her not to worry about it, love,' he said. 'I'm just getting into a taxi now.'

'Oh, so you heard that one too?' she asked, grinning into the phone.

He laughed. 'Of course, I hear everything. I'll see you at home.'

 _Home_.

Her smile softened as she hung up the phone, ignoring Elsa's knowing look. 'He's already in a taxi. Thanks for the offer, though.'

'I'm be driving past anyway, so it's not a problem,' she said again. 'You can pay me back by having me around when Killian's settled in so I can meet him.'

Elsa let her out at the entrance to her apartment block with a wave and a promise to pick her up at the same time tomorrow, and Emma approached her door with a lot less enthusiasm than she would have before Killian's call.

When she opened the door and stepped inside, however, she realised that maybe it wasn't a terrible thing that he hadn't arrived before her. She thought she'd done a pretty good job on the things that she'd bought for the place so far, buying things similar to those each of them owned so it would feel like home to both of them, and of course there was still a fair amount left to be done. There was a small part of her, however, that worried that he wouldn't like what she'd done, or not like the apartment at all, or that he'd change his mind and not want to move in with her after all -

_Stop._

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, she stepped into the apartment, dropping her bag on the table beside the door and heading straight for the kitchen. Pouring herself a large glass of wine and leaning back against the counter, she drained half of it in an attempt to ease the knot in her stomach.

It was completely ridiculous to be so full of nervous excitement, so why was she? They'd spent most of their time either at his place in Boston or hers in New York when they weren't working, enjoying their version of a proper relationship, so it wasn't as though they weren't used to living with each other, being together. They weren't bored of each other - weren't frustrated with each other - because they still gave each other their own space, and the nature of their jobs meant that it was impossible for them to live in each other's pockets anyway. Even though Killian had stepped back from music, he'd still played a few quiet, solo gigs in bars in Boston and was planning to do the same thing every now and then in Atlanta, and now that he had the time to give to it, his art was able to captivate him for hours at a time.

They were doing great, and she had no intentions at all of letting go of what they'd finally found together. But still, she was nervous. This was a new thing for her - properly living with any kind of partner. Hell, living with anyone at all was different, for more than a few months, anyway. And she had no intention of moving again if she could help it.

_What if he didn't like it?_

She was on her second glass of wine, curled up on the couch with her feet tucked under her legs to stop them tapping on the ground, when she finally heard a key sliding into the lock. She forced herself to sit still - yes she'd missed him, but he didn't need to know how much, damn it - as the door slowly swung inward.

Killian stepped into the apartment and she felt a little of her tension ease just from seeing him. He looked tired, his hair mussed like he'd been running his fingers through it, dressed in jeans and a faded t-shirt with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He looked so completely normal that she let go of her worries immediately.  _It's just us. Where ever we are, it's just us._

He looked around the room quickly, his expression showing no hint of what he thought until his gaze landed on her, his shoulders relaxed but his eyes lighting up. Kicking the door shut behind him, he started across the room, dropping his bag in the middle of the living room. She barely had time to deposit her wine glass on the coffee table beside the couch before he was there, one knee on the couch in front of her, one hand supporting himself on the armrest behind her. The other hand quickly cupped the back of her head, fingers twisting in her hair as he leaned down to press his mouth to hers.

Her legs parted to let him slip between them, her arms wrapping around him and holding him close, close, closer. His weight pressed down on her almost uncomfortably, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Not when his teeth brushed against her lip to open them, not when he groaned so deliciously when she obliged him.

When her lungs felt fit to burst she finally pulled back, happy that at least he was as short of breath as she was. Grinning up at him, she brushed her fingers across his face, threaded them through his hair. 'Hi,' she said simply.

His answering grin was equal amounts pleased and mischievous. 'Hi,' he said, leaning forward again to brush his nose against hers. 'I missed you,' he said, lowering his face to her neck and pressing his lips against her skin.

She couldn't help the way her body arched into his of its own accord, but she did suppress the urge to just tear his clothes of there and then. 'Do you like the apartment?'

His mouth trailed up her neck and along her jaw. 'It's beautiful,' he murmured against her lips, his eyes only on her.

Dork.

Before she could pull back far enough that he could see her rolling her eyes at him, Killian pushed himself back to sit properly on the couch beside her, barely waiting for her to awkwardly pull her legs out from underneath her before he was pulling  _her_  right on top of him. She settled against him easily, straddling his thighs, chest to chest with his arms loosely around her waist. 'Better?' he asked, one eyebrow lifting.

'Better,' she said softly, closing the distance between them to press her lips gently against his.

It felt good, relaxing, to just have him here, to touch him and taste him, to breathe him in. She had missed him.

The last few months had been nothing like she'd feared they'd be, and everything that she hadn't dared to hope for. They'd still had their own lives when they'd been together, their own space, and when they'd been apart she'd been able to cope. Being away from him was different now, the longing different. It didn't tear her apart, drive her into the arms of a warm distraction, but when she saw him again it felt sweeter, like coming home.

Love wasn't a dark, dangerous thing anymore, and she'd never felt freer than since she'd embraced it.

She kissed him softly, slowly, revelling in the taste of him and in no hurry to rush things, but it wasn't long before Killian's arms tightened around her, his mouth becoming more insistent, and his enthusiasm was catching. One of his hands tangled in her hair while the other clutched at her waist, his fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt and digging into her skin. Hers had been gripping at his shoulders but she slid one down his chest, catching the neck of his t-shirt with the tips of her fingers to drag it down, revealing a muscled shoulder and a rather attractive collarbone that she quickly closed her mouth over.

His groan went straight through her, causing her hips to move forward of their own accord, aligning with his and she could feel just how much he wanted her, in his ragged breaths, in the way that he always pulled her closer, in the hardness that was now in just that right spot between her legs. She moved against him again, muffling her moan against his neck at the feel of him even through two pairs of jeans and underwear, the roughness of the material only heightening her sensitivity. 'You feel good,' she murmured into his neck.

Both of his hands moved to cup her ass, encouraging her to move against him and she didn't hesitate, rocking her hips forward and down. The friction was  _good_  but not quite enough, even with the quiet groan from deep in his throat as he tugged on her hair, nudging her up so that he could take her lips with his own.

She gave herself into him for a minute or two, losing herself in the taste of him, in the familiar feel of his body against hers, and then he seemed to give in to the same impatience as she was starting to feel, tugging on the waistband of her jeans. 'If you value these jeans, I'd take them off now,' he suggested with a waggle of his eyebrow.

She laughed breathlessly. 'Or what, you'll tear them off me?' But there was a glint in his eye that said he might be at least partially serious, and it wasn't like she needed more of an excuse to take her clothes off with her boyfriend.

Standing up on awkward legs, she made quick work of the zipper but then Killian's hands were pushing hers away, slipping inside her fly, sliding around to knead her ass for a moment before he slowly drew her pants down her thighs. Her insides clenched when he pressed his lips against her hip, steadying herself with her hands on her shoulders.

'This part,' he murmured, his voice barely reaching her ears as he trailed his tongue down just slightly, just below her hipbone where his touch always made her shiver, his eyes looking up at her through his lashes and seeing right through her. 'I always miss this inch of skin the most.'

As soon as she stepped one leg out of her jeans she pushed him backward into the couch and straddled him again, unzipping and tugging down his jeans and underwear as one. She swallowed his groan with her mouth on his when she wrapped her hand around him, pumping him a few times before she shifted on his lap, lifting herself slightly to line him up at her entrance.

The way her name fell from his lips when she lowered herself onto him sent a shudder through her and straight to her core; combined with the feeling of him stretching her so deliciously, she had to give herself a moment to take it all in.

It might have been the same for him too, if the way his arms tightened around her was anything to go by, with his face buried against her neck. It was barely any time at all, however, before she realised that her hips had started rocking against his of their own accord. Giving into their need, she set a slow, fluid pace, just enjoying the feeling of being together again.

The zipper of his jeans was scratching against the backs of her thighs but she couldn't care less, her pace increasing as her sensitivity slowly started to build. Killian's hands had been on her hips, encouraging the way that she moved against him, but now one of them moved up her side, groping at her breast through her shirt and bra before tugging down the material and pushing her back so he could take her nipple between his lips, licking, sucking, biting until she thought she might go crazy with it. Supporting herself with her hands on his knees with his other arm around her waist, she leaned back to accommodate him, moaning at the new sensations that the angle caused for her. And then his hand was moving again, down between her legs, 'fuck' slipping from her lips as his thumb found her clit.

Every inch of her skin felt oversensitive, the drag of his cock inside her combined with his lips, tongue and teeth and his hand on her clearly designed to drive her crazy but she wasn't in any mood to resist. When she felt herself building, building, building she didn't fight it, grinding down against him harder, determined at least to bring him down with her, thrilling in the way his grip tightened on her, his head through back and his face flushed, eyes half closing but on her, always on her.

He didn't need much more encouragement, either, thrusting frantically up into her as she fell apart around him, his whole body stiffening as he came shortly after her.

By the time Emma had caught her breath she still wasn't to move, her body relaxed and boneless over Killian's, breathing in the scent of him. His hand was gently brushing up and down her back, only causing her to melt into him more. This was a pretty damned good end to her long day.

The thought of her early call time the next day was the thing that caused to her finally make a move, leaning back slightly to smile down at Killian's equally tired eyes. 'Love you,' she murmured.

Smiling up at her softly, he reached up to brush her hair behind her ear, the backs of his fingers stroking down her jaw on their way back down, his eyes telling her before he said the words. ' I love you, Emma.' He still said her name as though he was savouring it. 'Give me a tour, then bed?'

She showed him around the apartment quickly, relieved that he didn't hate anything, amused at how impressed he was with the fancy double stove in the kitchen (at least somebody that lived here would make use of it now). When they got to the bedroom he made a tired, half-hearted suggestive comment about trying out the new bed but she just shushed him, helping him out of his clothes, pulling him into bed and turning off the light.

'My bag -'

'You can unpack tomorrow.'

'I -'

'Shut up and just sleep with me.'

He paused, the air thick with what she just  _knew_  that he wanted to say, but after a moment he let out his breath with a laugh. 'Just don't trip over it tomorrow,' he said, his voice tired but amused. He pulled her closer as she settled against him, her head on his shoulder and her arm across his chest. He was warm, and she tucked her leg in between his too, wanting to feel him as closely as possible.

This type of intimacy wouldn't have been possible a year ago. She wouldn't have been afraid to be with him, to sleep beside him or even hold him as closely as this, but what it meant to her had been pushed down so far that she hadn't been able to recognise it. But not anymore - and she wasn't alone, she wasn't miserable, she wasn't broken.

Love was strength, if you did it right.

Taking in a deep breath, she let it out slowly, her body relaxing entirely as she did so. Yes - this was right.

This was home, now that he was here.


End file.
